


Empyrean

by Hannibitch_Lecter



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bloodplay, Bondage, Bottom Will, Cannibalism, Consensual Violence, Dante Alighieri - Freeform, Established Relationship, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, Knifeplay, M/M, Murder Basement, Needles, Obsession, Poetry, Possessive Hannibal, The Divine Comedy, Top Hannibal, Will wants to be Hannibal's Design
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibitch_Lecter/pseuds/Hannibitch_Lecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At breaking point with a violent and possessive Hannibal, Will realises that there is only one outlet for his lover's suppressed emotions. He allows Hannibal to use his highest form of expression and make Will his greatest Design - a Design of Love. </p><p>Hannibal casts Will as his victim, purging his heart with cathartic BDSM violence, and the poetry of Dante. They journey together through Hell, Purgatory and Heaven, but Hannibal should know by now that his William can take him beyond anything he could have dreamed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SUBSCRIBE if you like this idea! I'll be updating regularly, since I have the story planned out. Be nice, this is my first fanfic. *hides behind laptop*
> 
> There will be lots of Dante, Hannibal's feelings and eventual sex.
> 
> Peace out, eat the rude.

Before Hannibal, Will hadn’t appreciated how much relationships could change. They had crossed every line: strangers, doctor and patient, acquaintances, colleagues, friends, and now? He loved Hannibal with all his heart, and knew the psychiatrist loved him. Their attraction had been obvious from the start, so when Will finally broke down in Hannibal’s arms after Tobias Budge’s attack, the kiss they shared was wanting, warm, hopeful. A promise of companionship, beseeching need, raw desire. Will knew the truth about Hannibal, but by the time it had come to him, love and a desperate need to protect, to covet the man, had erased any doubts he’d had about keeping his secret. Their bodies, lives and minds came together with such ease, such perfect compliment, that each knew no person could fit the other so well. This ease, this love, made them both happy, and they settled into a shared life. As Will realised, however, the only consistency in life is change.

  
Shades of control and violence entered their relationship by degrees, spreading and eclipsing, in the way a drop of ink can saturate a pool of water. Hannibal seemed to grow more possessive of Will by the day, and more distracted, even irritable in his presence. It was alarming to see his darker emotions ripple on the surface. Will hoped that three months in a stable relationship might have calmed the beast inside his lover, but his behaviour was getting hard to deal with.

  
It took a while for Will to notice, since he cared so little about his own style, but his clothes were gradually disappearing and being replaced. Will had a small portion of the stately walk in wardrobe adjoining Hannibal’s bedroom (“No, Will, it’s _our_ room now.”), and every time he looked, a moth-eaten jumper was gone and a cashmere one lay in its place, tailored slacks that cost a month of Will’s salary in lieu of worn jeans. He wouldn’t have minded, if Hannibal had at least asked permission first – some of those ‘rags’ were his favourites. It seemed like a stupid thing to complain about, but he felt controlled. When pressed, Hannibal firmly insisted that Will deserved spoiling, and that he’d only let his partner have the best. Spoiling was one thing; Will nearly passed out when he researched the price of a beautiful watch left on his pillow six weeks ago. The Patek Philippe was worth tens of thousands. It was truly ridiculous, and Will said so, infuriated, swearing and attempting to give it back with shaking hands. This did not go down well. Hannibal’s face set into a hard line, his eyes flashing black.

  
“Do you think your value to me can be measured in dollars, Will? I deem you worthy of it, more than worthy. Do not insult this gift.” Will set the watch down on the table and left the house, unwilling to argue and yet unwilling to take it. The next day, Will received a phone call from Jack – a new ripper victim had been found in a Washington park. The man had been eviscerated and impaled upon a large sundial, the central ornament of the gardens. Will never walked out on Hannibal after that.

  
His calm demeanour slips into irritation when Will is around others. A joke shared with Beverley to break the silence of a crime scene became a stab of pain, when Hannibal squeezed his hand so tightly Will could swear he felt bones crush. He hated to make the usually stoic man uncomfortable, but he had to admit that Hannibal had restricted his social life somewhat. A night out with friends was not worth the danger it posed to others, after Will had caught his lover stalking a colleague who’d taken him out to lunch.

  
Arriving at Hannibal’s to be shoved roughly against the wall without ceremony, lips bruised with kisses before being dragged upstairs, had become the norm. More frequently now Will’s keen senses felt anger simmering beneath his mate’s skin as they made love, no, it could only be called fucking in recent weeks. Tension made its home in Hannibal’s sculpted jaw and a hardness in his eyes lingered as he slammed into Will’s body, night after night. His Doctor was insatiable; Will could barely keep up despite being more than ten years younger. Grasping fingers left purple bruises on Will’s hips, back, arms, and would have imprinted on his neck if the man hadn’t protested, fearing for his safety even as he opened his mouth to be kissed deeply. It frightened Will, seeing Hannibal struggle to keep himself in check, controlling spates of violence for Will’s sake. He was gathered tightly in Hannibal’s arms afterwards, soft kisses peppering his hair, and lulled to sleep by a faint, Lithuanian whisper of “Maniškis, Maniškis.”

  
It was after one of these nights that Will sat uncomfortably at his desk at the FBI, trying to ignore the myriad of aches and wishing, not for the first time, that Quantico’s budget could stretch to better padded seats. “I bet Jack’s chair is fit to fall asleep in.” he grumbled to himself, crunching up a final french fry and throwing his fast-food wrapper into the bin. The meal had been a luxury of sorts, as Hannibal had taken to personally bringing him a home cooked lunch whenever Will was brought in to look over a case. It wasn’t that he disliked the painstakingly prepared meals in stupid little Tupperware containers, they were always delicious. Will missed ‘normal people’ food from before he got together with Hannibal - greasy, unhealthy things that were not gourmet, organic or could contain traces of real people. (From the beginning, Will had insisted that his boyfriend’s particular favourite ingredient should never be a part of his meals). Now that Hannibal controlled what went into his body, there was a tiny thrill in ‘disobeying’ by wolfing down a giant cheeseburger. It was awful. It was delicious.

  
As if on cue, a sharp rap on the door announced the psychiatrist’s arrival.

  
“Grilled calf’s liver on white polenta, served with bacon, caramelised onions and a balsamic reduction.” Hannibal announced, striding forward to place a small bowl on Will’s desk and a kiss on his brow. Will smiled awkwardly, looking sideways at his lover past a small mountain of paperwork.

  
“Um, thanks and all but I already ate. Just leave it here and I’ll heat it up tonight.” Hannibal grimaced.

  
“So that vile aroma is your doing, Will? That is disappointing; I thought I had succeeded in refining your palette by now. My meal will be spoiled; please do not repeat this behaviour.” Will spluttered in response, exasperation flushing his cheeks a soft pink.

  
“ _Please do not repeat this behaviour?_ Can you _hear_ yourself, Hannibal? I’m not a child you know, I can buy my own lunch!”

  
“As your partner I will not have you sullying your body with processed garbage. I know what is best for you, Will. Let me take care of you.” Will’s patience finally snapped. He pushed his chair back roughly, and stood to face the man, gesturing wildly.

  
“This is _not_ taking care of me! You can’t have everything about me your own way, Hannibal! I have my own tastes, my own ideas, my own _fucking_ life! I can’t deal with this. You’re in every damn corner of my existence, every day, and it’s too much. I’m not your possession. Just back off!”

  
Will rounded the corner of his desk, hands trembling as he registered the depth of his rudeness. He couldn’t look at Hannibal, who was deathly silent, instead gazing emptily at a pin-cushioned map of the east coast. He breathed unsteadily, waiting for cruel hands to make him the latest addition to the wall. But the touch never came.

  
“You do not appreciate my efforts for you, so I will leave you alone”.

  
The ice in his partner’s voice shook Will more than physical violence would have. It was a simple sentence, but devoid of human feeling or inflection, empty in the way that only Hannibal could be. The voice of a man who thought nothing of ripping still beating hearts from the chests of the rude.

  
Will heard his lover turn on his heel and leave the room, delicately closing the door behind him. Heart racing, he sank back down into his seat and exhaled heavily. His tired eyes fell upon the container on his desk. “When did I become afraid of him?” he mused silently, pushing back his wild hair. The dynamics of their relationship had changed. Finding out what was wrong with his once content (and almost normal) Hannibal would require a difficult conversation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's resolve to let the fight simmer overnight wavered, teetering on the edge of decision. He turned the car around and began the long drive back to Hannibal’s, as the night closed in around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY that this took so long. I am the laziest writer - every few weeks I'd be like "oh, that story still exists" and still not do anything about it. Sigh.

Will left Quantico at 7pm, intending to ignore Hannibal until the next day. His phone showed no messages and no calls since lunch time, so he presumed his boyfriend felt the same, not yet ready to test the waters of their fight. It was just childish, trying to control what he ate for god’s sake, turning up at his (questionably secure) workplace unannounced, on top of the frightening aspects he didn’t want to think about right now. He felt smothered.

He flung himself into his car, turning on the radio to distract his churning mind, before reversing and leaving Quantico.

The scenery changed as time went on, the city gave way to dimly lit fields and pockets of trees rushing by, whipped by cold winds and a sudden downpour of rain. “Bleak.” Will muttered to no-one in particular, not knowing if he meant the weather or not.

The radio hadn’t been doing a good job at keeping the profiler away from his thoughts; it faded into the background beneath the patter of rain, squeaking wipers and visions of Hannibal’s hauntingly beautiful face, open in a genuine smile one minute and fixed with brooding darkness the next. Will hadn’t processed a single song during the hour long drive, until the familiar notes of an acoustic guitar broke his reverie. “Oh come on!” he grimaced, recognising the romantic song and reaching to turn the radio off. The singer beat him to it, however, and Will let the music play, thinking that anything that caught his attention on the one station his radio picked up had to be better than his continued mental chatter.  

_I don't like you_  
 _But I love you_  
 _Seems that I'm always_  
 _Thinking of you_  
 _Oh, oh, oh,_  
 _You treat me badly_  
 _I love you madly_  
 _You've really got a hold on me_

The damn song was uncomfortably accurate. Will sighed and leant back into his seat as he drove, letting the melancholy he’d been holding back wash over him. _  
_

_Baby, I don't want you_  
 _But I need you_  
 _Don't want to kiss you_  
 _But I need to_  
 _Oh, oh, oh_  
 _You do me wrong now_  
 _My love is strong now_  
 _You've really got a hold on me_

Will felt the pain of the earlier confrontation sink in. He was hurt and terrified, sure, but love ached in his chest. Images from his recently constructed mind-palace rose unbidden to mind, precious trinkets that no pain could touch: Hannibal kissing him awake in the morning, with a mop of sandy hair brushing his eyelids. The way the glow from the fire lit the angles of his face as he concentrated on a sketch. Their first desperate kiss in his up-turned office, clutching each other like drowning men. The rich taste of Hannibal’s blood in his mouth as he fell in love.

I miss him. Will’s resolve to let the fight simmer overnight wavered, teetering on the edge of decision. 

_Baby, I love you and all I want you to do_

_Is just hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me_

 

He turned the car around and began the long drive back to Hannibal’s, as the night closed in around him.

 

* * *

 

 

Will rings the bell in Baltimore, stiff with nerves as Hannibal opens the door, maroon shirt unbuttoned at the throat. He stares through Will as glacially as before, questioning him with a minute tilt of the head. He is surprised to see him, though no-one but Will could tell from his expression. He thought that Will would stay away.

 

“I’m sorry.” is all he manages, stepping into the hallway before he is seized by the collar.

 

Will drops his overnight bag on the floor. There is a faint clatter of pills as it hits polished mahogany and Will hits ‘his spot’ on the wall. The sarcastic part of his brain sneers that there should be a dent there by now, but it is quickly silenced. The heavy door swings shut.

Hannibal holds him against the wall with one hand, clutching his shirt and pressing close to his throat, enough to hurt. He looks into Will’s blue eyes for a moment, to his plush lips opened in surprise, before giving in and kissing him roughly. He had planned to remain stern with his lover until given an explanation, but found he couldn’t resist his William. The profiler’s scent was intoxicating – fallen leaves in autumn, a hint of bitter coffee and a sweetness that was all Will.

Will melts into Hannibal’s touch involuntarily, so happy that his lover’s coldness from earlier that day had thawed to a more familiar emotion. He is loved. He is wanted. Will moans into Hannibal and they make out passionately. One strong arm wraps around the small of Will’s back, pressing their hips together - equal parts desiring and claiming.

“You have quite a nerve coming to me so soon, insolent boy”. Hannibal growls into Will’s neck, pausing there to suck a painful mark into the skin just beneath his ear. “Do you not fear what might become of you and your rude little mouth?” he whispers with a tiny smile, accent slipping. He captures Will’s bottom lip between sharp teeth, pulling gently to emphasise his point.

 Will wonders if his should just go with this as usual but stays himself; he can’t let the earlier conversation go. He’d never get a chance to voice his concerns if he kept putting it off; Hannibal was always going to be distracting. So distracting, warm, powerful. He takes a deep breath and pushes him away gently, caressing his broad chest.

“Hannibal, please stop, I don’t want this. I mean, I want you of course I do but - can we sit and talk for a while? I’d like that.”

 Hannibal straightened his back, bristling slightly as he released the plaid creature from his arms. His untamed lust rejected, he retreated back into his person suit, attempting to regain control of the situation. This was new behaviour for Will and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“By all means. Please wait for me in the study.” he replied evenly, striding to the kitchen to fetch a bottle of wine. For once he might need it more than his guest, he thought, before shaking the ridiculous idea from his head. He selected a deep Vosne-Romanée and returned to his sweet boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will was listening to this song by She and Him in the car.  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thnEEVHS0U4
> 
> Chapter Two was brought to you by: I hate to say cake again but it actually was. Chocolate jagermeister cake, oh lordy.
> 
> Sorry my tenses are muddled; I can't make myself stop! This story is just for fun anyway so whatever.
> 
> Hope you liked the boys' reconciliation! Kudos and comment me up. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Maniškis - means 'mine' in Lithuanian.
> 
> Chapter One was brought to you by: The Beatles and a bucket of cake.
> 
> Your kudos give Will cuddles, and your comments motivate me to give you some more damn chapters!


End file.
